


Dragon Sightings

by Torchiclove



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Light-Hearted, Post-Canon, The citizens of whitestone deal with vm's bullshit, dragon fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 23:26:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13134396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torchiclove/pseuds/Torchiclove
Summary: It has been years since Vox Machina retired when two dragons are sighted outside Whitestone.





	Dragon Sightings

There is a dragon sighting outside Whitestone.

It has been years since a dragon, a real, big, true _dragon_ showed its face in Tal’dorei, let alone Whitestone, home of two of the greatest dragon-slaying heroes known to man.

And yet now, on a peaceful, unsuspecting morning, two dragons, full grown, ancient, shoot out of the forest in a spiral, shaking the treetops.

They are gargantuan—one stark white against the clear blue sky, resembling the long-dead threat Vorugal, snarling with bestial fury and snapping it’s mighty jaws. Shooting up beside it is a brass behemoth, beautiful wings rippling as it flies. 

There is a whisper of alarm slowly growing within the city as citizens and guards look on in terror. They all remember what it is like to be terrified, here in this city. It is not new.

There is a tension that does not spill over into full panic, because a strange thing happens. 

The dragons ascend to dizzying heights, but they do not advance towards Whitestone to bring destruction to the carefully reconstructed city. When they reach their apex in the sky, they turn towards each other, and the brass spews forth a jet of flame that the white dragon nimbly dodges, the edges of its form just barely seared.

The white answers with a spray of ice that the brass dragon shrugs off without effort.

The people of Whitestone swear they see the brass dragon grin as it rushes the white full-force, a flurry of claws that scrape harmlessly against the hide, but then rears its head and bites into the neck, finishing its attacks with a quick whip of its tail across the white dragon’s flank.

The white dragon lurches backwards fearfully, but continues the onslaught in spite of its apparent hesitancy towards its brass foe. The brass dragon nimbly dives out of the way as the white bites towards it and whips its tail, but a claw swipe catches it across the chest. The white dragon is sprayed with blood, and it roars ferociously, echoing through the mountains.

The people of Whitestone watch with a mix of horror and awe as these reptilian titans tear into each other, trading blows and elemental sprays. Hot dragon blood drips into the forest, and the roars fill the skies.

Guards run to fetch the first person they think of: The Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt. She is a dragon slayer, the protector of Whitestone, surely she could rally Vox Machina and have the threat be over with.

But they find her home empty, both herself and her husband missing from the city. Not in the castle, not in the bakery; there’s word that someone saw her heading out for a hunt earlier. Perhaps she already knows of the threat, is already doing something about it. They can only hope. 

But the beasts carry on, locked to each other like a pair of great, flying cats. And as they toss and tumble in the air, the white dragon seems to be gain the advantage, tearing chunks of the brass out with its teeth and latching on relentlessly with its claws. 

It lets loose a final breath of its ice and flies backwards, seemingly triumphant as the brass dragon dips in the air, its rippling sails of wings tattered and blood-smeared. But it seems to have a little fight left in it, and jumps in for one last onslaught.

The brass dragon latches on to the underside of the white dragon’s neck with its teeth; the white tries to shake it, but can’t, and the claws rake down its chest, tearing jagged, red holes in the hide. The brass dragon’s giant tail whips around one more time to smash into the white dragon’s side, and with a sudden pop, there is no white dragon.

From where they fought nearly three hundred feet in the air, a small shape becomes visible. It plummets for a few dozen feet before the brass dragon snatches it up in its claws, absolutely dwarfing what looks, in the distance, to be a humanoid.

The people of Whitestone look on in terror and awe and now, confusion. 

 

Meanwhile, in the forest, there is an uproar of cheers, and the clanking sound of coin being passed.

Lady Vex’ahlia De Rolo, Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt, takes a hundred gold pieces from a begrudging goliath as the gargantuan brass dragon lands with a triumphant roar that causes birds to scatter from their nearby perches.

“Watch out, you’re crushing me,” Scanlan grumbles, wriggling out from Keyleth’s grip. He’s trying to pout but he can’t hide his smile, and he’s jolted suddenly by Pike clapping him on the shoulder.

“Good effort, dear,” she says, hiding a sly smirk.

“You almost had me,” rumbles the deep, reverberant voice of dragon-Keyleth, both sincere and unmistakably self-satisfied. She shifts back to her half-elf form and extends a hand, which Scanlan shakes.

“You went a little hard there at the end,” he says, pointing to the cut on his forehead that opened up from the carry-over damage.

Pike rolled her eyes and stuck her palm in his face to cast cure wounds. “Really, Scanlan? You’re such a _baby_.”

“Thanks babe,” Scanlan says and gives her a quick kiss, causing Vex to mime gagging in the background.

“I knew I could count on you, Kiki,” Vex says, giving Keyleth a quick hug.

“I was a little worried for a moment there,” Percy interjects, smirking, “I thought we might see the _real_ dragon come out.”

“You know it, darling.”

Grog, done sulking over his lost coin (which he’d counted out _himself_ ), comes over and hoists Scanlan onto his shoulder. “You’ll get it next time, right, buddy?”

“‘Course, big guy!”

“You know, we should really get back to Whitestone and tell them there’s no dragons to be worried about,” Keyleth says, and they all look sheepishly at each other for a moment. Maybe an epic dragon fight had been a bit spur of the moment, and they hadn’t quite considered the nearby city’s reaction.

But even with the goal in mind, they make their way slowly to the city, too busy catching up with each other. It is so rare that they all get together like this, what with all their busy lives. Vex and Percy have one child and another on the way, Keyleth has to lead her people, and the gnomes and Grog, well, they get up to their own mischief.

“Lady Vex’ahlia!” Calls a guard as soon as they are in sight, his helmet crooked and his tone frazzled. “There were two dragons sighted–”

“Don’t worry darling, we covered it,” she says dismissively, waving a hand. 

“I–uh, um...Right.” He stammers for a moment, then gives up and walks off to tell the other guards that everything is fine. 

The city of Whitestone slowly relaxes as the news ripples through that Vox Machina, in some way, has saved the day again.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a dumb fun idea I've had ever since Scanlan got true polymorph! For anyone curious, I actually rolled an entire fight to see who would win, and Kiki just barely pulled through (19 hp left!) even though brass dragons are little less beefy. She kept rolling solid damage even though her breath weapon didn't recharge A SINGLE TIME
> 
> I also didn't bother with concentration checks because it ruins the fun.


End file.
